Tsukumodo:Volume 1 Statue

Something belies your expectations.

Things just won't go your way.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Situation like these aren't rare at all.

Let's for instance take a look at a common purchase: some buy branded articles just to find out that they were ripped off, others order something on the Internet and have to realize that they were expecting something entirely different. Stories like these can be found anywhere.

Everyone should have made the experience of just leaving things at that in such cases, or of returning the article in question. More than just once or twice.

But if that said article happens to be a Relic, that won't do.

It's still one thing if it turns out to be fake.

But if it's real and its powers turn out to be completely different, then it's absolutely no laughing matter.

Indeed, it's really no laughing matter.

♦

A child was lying in its bed, breathing painfully.

The child, aged not even 10, was apparently suffering from a high fever since three days. The heat had made her face flush and on her forehead sweat beads kept appearing no matter how many times her mother wiped them away. From time to time she coughed with pain, just to groan due to the head ache that came from the shake.

There was no doctor in this village. The only profession conducted here, where there was nothing but fields, was farming.

There was no medicine in this village. Although some wandering medicine sellers came by at times to spend the night, they didn't have the money to buy from them. Sometimes the villagers could get their hands on some little medicine in exchange for a bed and a breakfast, but by far not enough to suffice for everyone.

Therefore, whoever got ill, had to recover by rest.

Therefore, whoever aggravated his illness, would lose his life.

The day we came to this village, we got to know these conditions.

"I beg you, please save our child!"

For these reasons, it was no wonder that the child's parents relied on us who have played doctor in the past.

Yes, you could say that we had played doctor.

But that was not quite accurate.

We did, in fact, neither use any medicine nor execute any operations.

It was nothing else but his touch.

It was just milord touching the sick.

"You needn't worry anymore," milord whispered softly and touched the child's forehead with his right hand.

Moments after—

Her wild breath started to calm down bit by bit. The high fever that had made her cheeks red and had brought the sweat on her brow disappeared into oblivion. The endless cycle of painful coughs was broken and the child opened her eyes as if nothing had happened.

"Mm? What's the matter?"

These were the first words after a long three days of high fever.

Her parents burst into tears upon knowing that her life had still gotten saved and embraced the clueless child.

The onlooking villagers were speechless with admiration at first, and then started to overwhelm us with words of appreciation and admiration.

His touch can heal any illness on the spot.

His touch can heal any wound on the spot.

It's a miracle that can hardly be of human hand.

The divine dwells in his right hand—

♦

"'Sup folks!"

With a casual greeting I, Tokiya Kurusu, entered the shop.

The interior was stuffed with miscellaneous things like accessories, jars, portraits and whatnot. "Stuffed", not "stocked", for it looked much more like a storeroom than a store. Although storerooms might still be tidier than this.

And this deserted backstreet shop, the Tsukumodo Antique Shop (FAKE), was where I worked part-time.

"Nobody here?"

Normally, a rather blunt girl clad all in black was supposed to stand behind the counter, but apparently, she was in the other part of the building.

I opened the door and went further inside. The shop was directly connected to the dwelling of the two by a door at the rear.

I entered the living room and found something strange on the table instead of the people I was looking for.

"What's this?"

It was a potted plant and a doll of a dog. Some sort of weed was planted in the pot and tied to the doll by a cord. Moreover, there was a clock face on the pot with a hand showing the time.

Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be an alarm clock and was set to 5pm.

It was in fact just one minute before 5 o'clock. The dog opened its eyes and started to stroll about on the table, pulling the weed slowly out of the pot.

While it was too deep for me, it was some kind of automaton clock by all appearances.

As the weed was being pulled, its brown root became slowly visible. Watching the root closely, it suddenly looked to me like a human head and gave me the shivers.

I was not, however, surprised. The owner of this shop was a sucker for such vogue merchandise.

(But wow, this is one grotesque alarm clock. I wouldn't think of waking up to such a thing each morning.)

While these thoughts crossed my mind, the dog kept removing itself from the pot bit by bit and more of the head-like root appeared.

Somehow that alarm clock started to remind me of something.

(Let me think...

Wasn't there some tale or legend where dogs were used to pull up some kind of plant?)

What was it called, again... Mm...)

"Ah. Mandrake it was."

When the mandrake root is pulled up, the plant screams and kills all who hear it, which is why dogs are used to do the picking...

"...Oh no, please not."

It was just when a bad premonition struck me that the clock hand pointed at the five and the dog doll made the last step.

The head-like root slipped out of the pot and raised a scream while pulling a face like The Scream by Edvard Munch.

"KRYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"

"UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! HEY!"

I smacked the mandrake clock.

The clock fell down on the floor and continued to groan there.

"Tch, just a fake," flicked a woman as she appeared as though she had been watching all the time.

It was the owner of this shop as well as my employer, Towako Setsutsu.

Probably she was best described as a cool beauty. Well-formed eyebrows adorned her face, a strong will glared in her eyes, and smooth black hair of beautiful luster reached down to her waist. She was slender and a wee bit taller than me, whose body size equaled about the standard size of a high-schooler, making her look quite provocative. The same could be said for her clothes: she wore skin-tight shirt with a jacket and slim lederhosen that enhanced her long legs.

However, her behavior was far behind her looks.

Not only did she take to collecting bizarre oddities, but she also found it funny to test them on me like a little brat.

That said, it was not like she collected those oddities just for a hobby.

In fact, the things she collected were Relics.

Not antiques or art objects, but tools with special abilities created by mighty ancients or magicians, or objects that have absorbed their owner's grudge or natural spiritual powers.

In tales and legends, there often are tools with a power.

For instance, a stone that brings good luck, a doll whose hair grows night after night, a mirror that shows your future appearance, a sword that brings ruin to anyone who draws it.

Everybody has most likely heard of their existence.

However, people consider them mere fantasies because they have not seen them, they do not notice them even if they are right before their eyes, and they believe in some sort of coincidence if something mysterious occurs.

Some feel unconcerned, while others are certain such things do not exist.

Regrettably though, Relics are closer to us than we may think.

Her hobby was to collect those Relics.

Well, most of the times, like this time, she was scammed with a fake.

"A lot of money went out of the window for this mandrake clock...," grumbled Towako-san after switching off the still-crying mandrake clock.

"Just for the record, what would have happened if it had been real?"

"If you hear the cry, you die."

"Heck, that's no alarmer anymore, is it!"

"Oh come on, it's not like it's the end of the world."

(But it is! At least for the listener. I just lost a few years of my lifespan. For sure.)

"By the way, when did you come back?"

She had been absent for a week for her Relic purchases.

"Mm, only just! Tokiya, put this on a shelf."

Towako-san ordered me to add the mandrake clock (FAKE) to the articles of the shop. And up goes the share of items that had nothing to do with antiquity.

"Where do you want it?"

"I don't care."

"Why don't you try to work out a system for once?"

I returned to the shop and put the clock in some free space. Next to an old camera. Incidentally, it was a—fake of a—camera that would photograph the past of the person you took a photograph of.

Towako-san entered the shop as well, and pushed on the register in passing.

Upon seeing the weekly sales that were printed out, she contorted her face. Apparently, she did care a little about the sales.

Although I would highly recommend not to.

"What else did you buy?"

"Ah, in truth I made quite a find this time around."

She quickly erased the sales from her mind and told me about her find.

"It's a statue that was retrieved from a village that deserted about a hundred years ago, you know, but boy does it look grotesque. And yet the statue is said to cure any illness by touching it."

"Is it true?"

"Apparently nobody has ever tried."

"That sounds damn fishy if you ask me."

"If that had been all, I wouldn't have bought it either, but in fact there is another lore according to which you die of a incurable illness if you touch the statue."

"Isn't that kinda the exact opposite?"

"Right. One lore says it cures any illness. Another lore says it kills you with an illness. What do you say? Don't you get excited to find out why there are two exact opposite lores for one and the same statue?"

"Well, can't deny that."

"So I got hold on some documents and research material. I'm starting my research today. Take good care of the shop," she blurted out and turned round. "Ah, not to forget!" she suddenly added, "Be sure to absolutely not touch the statue directly until we know what effect it has! When you touch it, then do it with gloves. I take no responsibility if you die otherwise."

"Got it."

I nodded... and froze.

Before us stood the other employee, Saki Maino, holding an odd statue with bare hands.

♦

"Kill her!"

"That trull is a witch in human guise!"

"She has brought calamity on our village!"

Countless angry yells resounded from outside the temple. Probably most of the villagers had surrounded the temple by then.

(Why has it come to this?

I just wanted to save them.)

I lifted the statue in my hands in front of my face.

It was a statue that would cure any illness. It was the statue milord had bequeathed to me. It was a statue full with his gentleness... and yet...

—Certainly he has left behind a curse.

I recalled the word I had received from a villager. Was it true? Was it a curse he had left behind?

I wanted to believe this was wrong, that this wasn't the case.

I wanted to believe that he wouldn't do such a thing.

Suddenly, I had a feeling that it had gotten warmer. It was winter at the time, and it was not possible for spring to arrive out of the blue. While in confusion, the warmth kept rising.

Within the rising temperature, I heard the sound of wood splitting.

I immediately realized that the building had been set on fire.

It didn't take long for the warmth to change into heat.

(I must flee.)

In an attempt to stay up, I fell on the ground threw up all what came welling up.

It was clear to me that I had thrown up blood.

Of late I had been throwing up blood so frequently it had gotten used to it. I, too, was afflicted with the plague.

But much more than this, I was anxious about the statue in my hands.

(Please be not stained with my blood.)

With my sleeves I wiped off the blood that may or may not have stuck to the statue, and when done, I firmly held it once again.

My illness, however, remained uncured.

The statue that had once cured any illness could not cure any illness anymore.

(Which death will come quicker? The death by disease or the death by fire?)

My awareness dulled and became foggy due to the inner and outer heat.

Bygone days crossed my mind as I slowly lost consciousness.

His name was Juan.

While he was aged only a little older than thirty, his hair was pure white. However, it did not make him appear aged and infirm, but in conjunction with his skin, as white as though it had not seen the sun, it was a representation of his purity.

At the time, Juan-sama dwelt in an abandoned temple in the recesses of the mountains. Without tying himself to any denomination, he simply and devoutly worshipped the Buddha.

At times he would pray, at times he would carve statues of the Buddha, and at times—he would heal the people with his right hand.

The people of the village often visited his temple in need of his right hand.

The people were poor and the land was dour in this village. They humbly lived off the scarce crops the land could barely give them. Because the people could not afford medicine and because there was no doctor, whoever was taken sick went to him to receive the blessings of his right hand.

The plague that ravaged this place started with coughing and continued with a high fever, after which one threw up blood. In the end, the sick fell into paralysis, his bodily functions dropped, and eventually he died.

But ever since milord—with the right hand in which the divine dwells—had come to this village, nobody had fallen victim to the plague anymore.

I, too, had received the blessings of his right hand.

My parents had abandoned me in the mountains and I was on the verge of dying either of starvation because I had nothing to eat, or of exposure because I was buried in snow, when I was rescued by Juan-sama, who was traveling.

While I can't remember well what happened when I was rescued, I know that a gentle warmth fulfilled my cold body and revived my living power.

Since then, I stayed with him and took care of the chores.

I was not the only one who wanted to live together with Juan-sama, but he always rejected.

However, there was no special reason that I was the only one to stay with him. Most likely, he had plainly pitied me—a girl not even half his age with no one to depend on.

In order to return the favor, I cleaned the temple and prepared the meals and washed our clothes each and every day without exception.

The object of worship at the temple was a golden statue of the Buddha that belonged to Juan-sama. He himself had cut it out of Cypress wood and gilded it with gold. It was only about a stay cat's size, though... That comparison may have been a little rude. But as I am uneducated, I cannot come up with a better one.

Anyway, Juan-sama treasured the statue, and therefore I did so, too.

He cherished the statue and never failed to perform his office. When healing, he had it always besides him to borrow its power.

My first work in the morning was to clean the statue.

Each morning I polished it with a towel wetted in cold winter water.

"Forgive me for making you do such hard work."

Juan-sama often expressed his gratitude when seeing me cleaning or washing with ice-cold water.

But such tasks were far from being a pain. To me, it didn't matter whether the water I used was ice-cold or lukewarm.

One reason was of course my attitude, but it was much more because my hands were already numb and their skin as hard as stone.

I had probably been buried for too long inside the snow before rescued. My hands were half-dead.

Even Juan-sama's right hand was unable to heal the necrotic parts.

While his right hand could cure any illness and injury, it could not revive the dead. Likewise, it could not heal dead body parts.

Nonetheless, I could avert cutting away my hands thanks to his hand.

I could not move my fingers freely, but I could move them a little. Holding things with my arms was also possible, so it was not that much of a deal after some accustoming.

I was comfortable the way it was.

However—

"Forgive me. If only I had found you a little earlier..."

From time to time, he would spontaneously fold his hands around mine and rub them gently.

Only at these times, I wished that I'd had still feeling in them.

Earlier I said that the divine dwells in his right hand, but I believe there is no God.

If God can't even save a village from a plague or a child from starving in the wilderness, it doesn't matter if he exists or not. And if it doesn't matter, he might just as well not exist.

Therefore, he was a god for me.

If he, who has saved a village from a plague and a child from starving in the wilderness, is not a God, what else should he be?

But when telling him this, he admonished that I was not supposed to say such outrageous things.

Therefore I stopped saying it, even while thinking so to myself.

One time I asked him about his right hand.

Apparently it all started from a dream.

He had knocked something like a rusted nail in his hand and got a high fever, upon which he was on the brink of death for several days. But one day, the Buddha appeared in his dreams and touched Juan-sama's cheek with his right hand.

Whilst still dreaming, he felt the temperature decline.

Finally, before leaving, the Buddha touched his right hand and told him to save the people.

When he woke up on the next day, the fever was gone.

The first thing he did after wakening was to touch a sparrow with broken wings.

Everyone was sure the sparrow would never fly again, but the instant he touched it, the sparrow soared into the air.

It was then that he realized that the Buddha had granted a power to his right hand.

At the same time, he declared saving the people his calling.

He then traveled from place to place, effecting miracles and saving people.

But life doesn't go just as we want.

His mysterious power did not only bring blessings, but also doubt and fear.

The more people he saved, the more his power was doubted to be some sort of a curse, and not uncommonly he was driven off in fear he were a Youkai with the figure of a human.

If he were to be driven away from this place as well, I was going to follow him like I had done so far.

I was happy just being together with him.

The thought of leaving him had never even occurred to me.

Nonetheless, we still sought peace.

The people here were accepting us.

I wished that we could remain at this place for a long time.

I liked our life here and wanted it to continue.

—But there was one worry I had.

Recently, milord started to cough frequently.

Similar to the coughs of the villagers that visited him for cure.

When I told him to cure himself with his right hand, he only laughed and said that I were right.

♦